My Thanksgiving this year is not one I would call traditional. We were planning a small dinner with the boys, late in the evening so they could spend time with their other folks earlier in the day. But things didn’t come together as we had planned. One of our older boys was going to Lousiana to see his grandparents with his mother. Our youngest, who lives with us, was going to his Mom’s for a feast and Christmas tree decorating. And our other two boys were going to their Aunt Kathy’s house for the traditional Hispanic Thanksgiving consisting of turkey and tamales along with all the trimmings. My husband and I saw this as “our opportunity”. No cooking. No cleaning. Just a quick lunch at the local cafeteria. Heavenly.
The morning was amazing. While the hubby is on a time clock, you know the one, early to rise early to bed, I am not. My sleep is sporadic to say the least and the first opportunity I had to sleep in I took it. After a quick shower I decided to skip the make up and just put on a little lip stick. That’s when my day changed.
About 11:30 I got a text from one of the boys asking what time dinner was. The “Oh Shit!” factor kicked in immediately. Did I forget to tell one of them I wasn’t cooking? I had to confess that I had a communication problem and apologize to him. That was followed by a “NM Happy Thanksgiving anyway” He was fine. I think. C’mon! He had turkey and tamales waiting.
As the lipstick was gliding on my bottom lip I realized that I grabbed the wrong tube from my make up bag. Not that “Frosted Apricot” wasn’t my color, it just looked better on my mother. This was the tube of lipstick I found in her purse when she passed away. I never use it. I just always have it with me. The scent brought back memories of her hugging me and kissing me on the cheek. God, what I would give to have one of those hugs again.
Later that day, after our delightful cafeteria meal, it was time for an afternoon nap. Something we both had time to do since there was no cooking and cleaning. (Big, big smiles here) I cuddled up on the couch with a little black blanket that was left in my car after a trip to San Antonio with a very dear friend. We used to meet every year in October for the Women of Faith conference . I have not been able to connect with her. My emails are not rejected just unanswered. Her phone still rings but has no voice mail. I’ve often thought of driving to her home town to hunt her down, but why? She knows how to reach me. I miss her, but I am sure she is fine. People change. Relationships change. Sadly, I skipped Women of Faith this year, but I will be back next year. And every year after that.
By not having the typical hustle and bustle this Thanksgiving, I was able to take some time to reflect and think about those who are no longer with me. People who I have loved and lost. The very same people who have played a part in molding me into the person I am today. People who have touched my life in a way no one else has been able to. I was able to take the time to be thankful for not only those I cherish today but also for those I cherished yesterday.
The oldest boy called me late evening on Thanksgiving day. He called to say “Thanks Mom”. This was the first Thanksgiving in years that he didn’t get any of my peach cobbler. Sigh.
I didn’t really think too much about my Dad on Thanksgiving. It’s not like I have a tube of his lipstick. Or one of his old blankets. Next year maybe I’ll pop open a can of Lone Star beer and be thankful for the alcoholism that runs in my family.
Ah yes, next year. When I cook. No matter what. Even if its only peach cobbler.